One Snowy Regency Christmas. Sarah Mallory

have announced your excitement at your impending engagement. Have you forgotten that as well?’

      ‘Of course I have not forgotten.’ But he had responded too late to be believable.

      ‘I might just as well have included it as part of your business. It is little more than that to you, isn’t it?’

      ‘Little more to her as well,’ Joseph said, a little defensively. ‘Her father wishes her back living in this house. This is the most efficient way to accomplish it.’

      Breton pushed him towards his room. ‘Once she is here, you will notice her as little as you do your own furnishings—or that hole in the wall you found so fascinating. And that is a pity. Anne is a lovely girl, and deserving of better.’

      There was that prickling of his conscience again, and the echoing warning of his father to unravel his plans and start fresh. Perhaps that was what he’d meant. His other business plans were sensible enough. He hardly needed a wife to cement his place. But he could think of no honourable way to back out of the arrangement he had made with Clairemont.

      ‘There is nothing to be done about it now,’ Joseph said with exasperation. ‘We are as good as promised to each other. Everyone knows I mean to make the announcement on Christmas Eve. I cannot cry off, even if I might like to. The scandal to the girl would be greater than any that might befall me.’

      ‘Then the least you can do,’ Breton said more softly, ‘is to recognise that you have won a prize, and treat the girl as such. For if I find that you are neglecting her, or making her unhappy, I will be forced to act.’

      Joseph looked at his friend as if for the first time. Bob, who had been ever loyal, friendly and trusting, was acting as strangely as though he had been receiving nightly revelations as well. He looked angry. It was disquieting.

      ‘Very well, then,’ Joseph answered, searching his friend’s expression for some understandable reason for this change. ‘I will take your words to heart. Although it will not be a love match, I will make sure that she does not suffer for my neglect.’

      His friend sighed. ‘I suppose it is as much as I can expect from you. But see that you remember your words.’

       And mine as well.

      The echo of a voice from the portrait gallery caused him to start nervously.

      His friend gave him another suspicious look. ‘Is there something wrong, Joe?’

      ‘Nothing,’ he said hurriedly. ‘You are right. I have been working too hard. I have not slept well for two nights. And I am neglecting Anne. Today I will change. I promise. But for now I must dress. I will see you in the breakfast room shortly.’ He backed hurriedly into his bedroom and shut the door before the conversation could grow any more awkward.

      He would make a change—if only to avoid another night like the one he’d just had. Although, with the minimal direction his nightly ghosts had given him, God only knew what that change was supposed to be.

      CHAPTER SIX

      ‘WILL that be all, Miss Lampett?’

      Barbara checked carefully through the list she’d set for herself to finish the Christmas shopping. A matching skein of wool to complete the warm socks she was knitting for Father, and the new fashion plates that her mother would enjoy, along with enough lace to make her a collar. ‘I can think of nothing more.’

      ‘Do you want this sent round to the house, Miss Lampett?’ The girl behind the counter looked at her expectantly.

      There was plenty of space left in her market basket on top of the groceries: three oranges, one for each of them, and a pound of wheat for her father’s favourite frumenty. The roast she’d got from the butcher sat in the bottom of the basket, wrapped tightly in brown paper so that it would not spoil the rest. The poor bit of meat was leaner than she’d wished for. But then so was the butcher. What with the war, and the general poverty of the area, Christmas itself would be sparse for many people, and she had best be grateful that her family had the money to purchase a feast.

      Barbara counted the remaining coins in her purse, calculating the pennies needed to reward the boy at the end of his journey. ‘No, thank you. It is a fine day, and not far. I will carry this myself.’

      The shop girl gave her a doubtful look and wrapped the package carefully, placing it on top of the others.

      Barbara hefted the basket off the counter, feeling the weight shift. It was heavy now. In a mile it would be like lead on the end of her arm. Her muscles would ache with carrying it. But she smiled in gratitude, to show the girl that it was all right, and pulled it to her side, turning to go.

      ‘Allow me, Miss Lampett.’ Without warning, Joseph Stratford was there at her side, as suddenly as he had been two days past in front of the mill. He had a grip on the basket handle, and had pulled it from her without waiting for her to give him leave.

      ‘That will not be necessary,’ she said, trying not to sound breathless from the shock of the sudden contact. It was strange enough to see him in the village, shopping amongst the peasants in the middle of a work day. But it was doubly disconcerting to have him here, close to her again, after the intimacy of yesterday.

      ‘Perhaps you do not think it necessary,’ he agreed. ‘But I would not be able to stand aside and watch you struggle with it. You had best take my assistance, for both our sakes.’

      ‘I would prefer not.’

      ‘But I would not be able to sleep, knowing I had left a lady to carry such a burden.’ He smiled at her in a way that might have been charming had she not known so much of the source. ‘I can hardly sleep as it is.’

      The charm faded for a moment, and she saw shadows under his eyes that had not been there two days ago. Maybe her father was weakening him, after all. She reminded herself that he deserved any suffering he felt, and gave him a false smile in return. ‘Heaven forefend that you are uneasy in your rest, sir.’ She reached again for the basket, but he pulled it just out of reach.

      ‘Come. You and your packages will have a ride home in my carriage.’

      ‘It is a short distance,’ she argued.

      ‘The weather is turning. Come with me, and you will stay warm and dry.’

      ‘My reputation …’

      ‘Will be unharmed,’ he finished, glancing at the people around him for confirmation. ‘I mean you no mischief. I will take you directly home. It is on my way.’ He looked around with a glare, cowing the shop girl and the other customers. ‘No one will cast aspersions if I attempt to do you good. They can see plain enough that you are resisting, but I am giving no quarter. Come along, Miss Lampett.’

      Then he and her basket were ahead of her, out of the door and walking towards the large and entirely unnecessary carriage. She had no choice but to trail after.

      As she passed, his groom jumped to attention, rushing to take the basket, get the stair down and hold the door as he helped her up. Across from her, Joseph Stratford leaned back into the seats as though he was ascending to a throne.

      Then he smiled at her, satisfied. ‘There. As you can see, you are perfectly safe, and still in clear view of those in the street. I am all the way over here—properly out of reach of you. There will be no such incident as there was the last time we were alone together.’

      ‘I had no doubt of that, Mr Stratford. I would die first.’

      He laughed at her for her primness. ‘You are a most ungrateful chit, Miss Lampett. One kiss did you no permanent harm. And, if you will remember the altercation outside the mill two days past, you must admit I have shown concern for your welfare. If I was as awful as you pretend, I would have let the mob trample you.’

      ‘You would not have.’ He’d moved with such speed to get to her side that she was sure it had been all but involuntary.

      He